


Ardor Unceasing

by Leidolette



Category: 11 foot 8 Bridge (youtube & website)
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Other, Pining, Weird fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 14:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21138101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leidolette/pseuds/Leidolette
Summary: Where are you, my love?The bridge is always searching, never finding.





	Ardor Unceasing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debirlfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debirlfan/gifts).

> Happy Trick or Treat 2019, debirlfan! Here's a treat for ya.

Perhaps a craftsman mislayed a certain beam in an otherwise unremarkable day in the year of 1940. Perhaps the stars aligned in such a pattern as the earth rarely sees. Perhaps sometimes a strong enough will holds tight to an object and never lets go.

Perhaps it was not even a bridge at all.

For whatever reason, the entity known as the Norfolk Southern–Gregson Street Overpass in Durham, North Carolina in the United States of America had a heart to love. And love it did, most truly, though its sweetheart was far away. Every moment the bridge felt the bittersweet pain of longing.

But the separation the bridge had endured for so long might at last be over today. A truck, just barely too big to fit beneath the overpass, was barrelling towards the bridge. 

_My darling,_ the bridge's whisper was carried on the wind, _have you come to me at last?_

The warning sign flashed. The overheight light went on.

The truck did not stop.

Ah, here was the loveliest moment of anticipation. _Are you here, my love?_

The top three inches of the truck were within the bridge's reach. And the tender heart of the bridge reached out -- and tore.

Metal screamed and twisted. A horrible crunch reverberated throughout the block. Shards of metal and glass scattered along the road. The bridge relished the scent of fried wires.

Some would call this the canopener. Some would call this a brutal application of the laws of physics. The bridge would call this a kiss. 

And what a sweet kiss it was. The hundred thousand dollar truck was ruined in a split-second. The bridge's attention intensified. The roof of the truck's trailer had been jaggedly peeled back to reveal...

Nothing. Or, at least, nothing of interest to the bridge. Not its dearest one, not the one the bridge loved most in this world. Disappointment was familiar to the bridge, but always bitter.

The driver, unhurt, had already scrambled out of the truck and was busy cursing at the world. An only mildly interested local was calling the emergency services. Somewhere across the intersection, a camera was recording this event, soon to be shared across the globe, for those who cared to watch it.

These happenings were of no concern to the bridge. It settled back, growing languid again. _Oh well, oh well, we will meet another day, my love._ The bridge was patient, its heart everlasting. The bridge could wait. As sirens blared in the distance, the bridge drifted off into a dream. It was a lovely dream, of a time when the bridge and the other half of its soul would finally reunite. It would awaken then, the bridge knew, as something terrible and wonderful beyond imagining. Not so long from now, it thought in its sleep.

Not long at all.


End file.
